I didn’t trust Timothy at first.
“I owe you at least that much,” Walter said, “after all the theatrics.”
“You owe me considerably more than that, Walter!”
He laughed as if that were the funniest thing he’d heard in years.
My mother lives with my aunt now, and she was happier than I’d seen her in years when I told her I was getting married.
“I owe you at least that much.”
I’m still not entirely sure I’ve forgiven Walter for that morning.
But I’ll work on it.
I never believed in fairy tales growing up. And yet here I am, somehow living the most unexpected, infuriating, and wonderful version of one Walter could’ve invented.
